Stolen (Series)
by GylzGirl
Summary: The Watchers Council has a plan to seperate Buffy and Giles forever.
1. Stolen

Stolen  
(#1 in the Stolen Series)  
  
by GylzGirl  
  
Disclaimer: Joss and the Fox Conglomerate own Buffy and co. I own only the story.  
Rating: PG-13 (A little language)  
Type: Angst, You're soaking in it! (Aww, I need a hug.)  
Pairing: B/G  
Author's notes: Yes, it's fic #1 in yet another new series. Why? Because I am clinically insane! That's why! Solo, we'll go ahead and call it the Stolen series. Thanks to Meawan and Kazza for beta help and suggestions.  
Series Written: Fall 1999 - Continuing  
  
******  
  
  
  
  
Rupert Giles took his finger and idly traced his reflection in the window. He was almost to the point of numbness; the point where your system has experienced all the pain it can take and simply refuses to feel anything greater. The weariness had settled around his eyes, darkening the skin there. He looked haggard and old and felt every bit of it.  
  
He rubbed his hand over his chin and sighed. He'd been so smug, thought he was so tough even after everything. And yet, it had only taken three days for his entire life to fall apart. He blinked back the tears that threatened to fall again. Giles tried not to think about how he was ever going to get through another day without seeing his Slayer's beautiful smile.  
  
He kept thinking about how he should have slid a sword into the chest of that pompous old bastard Quentin Travers as soon as he saw him standing in his living room. 'Then perhaps this wouldn't have happened. Or perhaps it would have, but I least I would have had the satisfaction of killing him.'  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
"How the Hell did you get in here?"  
  
Travers arched an eyebrow in amusement as he made himself at home on Giles' sofa. "Really Rupert, must I dignify that with a response?"  
  
"No I don't suppose you do." He opened the door he had only just closed and looked at the other man expectantly.  
  
"Are you trying to air the place out?"  
  
"Perhaps I should, the atmosphere in here has rather taken on the pong of decay. However the more immediate point I was trying to make was that you should get off your ass and leave while I still remember to be civil enough to let you do it of your own accord."  
  
"Rupert, I've come to discuss a matter vital to the survival of your Miss Summers. Do sit down and stop being tiresome."  
  
Giles gritted his teeth, mustering all his willpower to lower his blood pressure and suppress the urge to tear his unwelcome visitor apart. It was almost more than he could take that the man who had forced his betrayal of Buffy, endangered her life and then relieved him of his birthright was playing at granting him hospitality in his own home. Almost. His statement that Buffy was in danger calmed him into compliantly sitting next to a person he would almost gratefully see dead.  
  
"Well Rupert my boy, how have you been?"  
  
"Can we please dispense with this pretense of friendship. You said Buffy was in danger? From what?"  
  
At his words, Travers smirked unabashedly. "From you."  
  
The glare Giles shot him would have crumbled anyone that still felt. "What do you mean?"  
  
"When I left here last year, I permitted you to remain..."  
  
"Permitted," Giles spat.  
  
"Permitted you to remain under the explicit instruction that you were not to interfere with your replacement's authority over the Slayer."  
  
"When are you going to understand? We have no authority over her, nor should we. The council was founded to *serve* the Slayer, not the other way around. The Slayer serves the world. We are there simply to assist her with that burden."  
  
"Times change Rupert."  
  
"But the tenants the council was founded on still hold true. Otherwise, what's the purpose in having it?"  
  
Travers stood and shook his head. "This is all beside the point." This time, it was Giles who wore the smirk. "The point is, you've violated the conditions allowing you to stay here. You kept Buffy from accepting and adjusting to her new Watcher. And your actions single-handedly led to her rejecting the Council."  
  
"The Council's refusal to help her led to her rejection. I had nothing to do with that. Did Wesley tell you differently?"  
  
"Mr. Wyndham-Price came back touting your praises and insisting that the only way we would ever get Buffy back is if you were, and I quote, "rightfully reinstated to your position as her Watcher". He was telling both trainees and council members alike of your quick assessment abilities, your research prowess and your deftness with a sword. His hero-worship of you has him rambling like a zealot."  
  
"I'm impressed with him."  
  
"You can keep your impressions to yourself. Mr. Wyndham-Price is no longer a member of the Council. Last I heard he had plans to move to Los Angeles. Good riddance."  
  
"Upset that your hand-selected Watcher agreed with me and not you? Or upset that your own nephew let everybody know what an outdated old fart you really are?"  
  
"You will not be allowed to stand between Miss Summers and her new Watcher. Nor will you be allowed to corrupt anyone else. You will have to leave. Now."  
  
Giles crossed his arms over his chest, everything about him daring Travers to attempt to move him. "I'm not going anywhere."  
  
"If you don't leave, Miss Summers cannot be assigned another Watcher. We know now that as long as you are here she will defer to you. Without you, her fear will force her to comply."  
  
"She left the Council because they treated her with utter contempt. No matter what I do, she will not accept a new Watcher."  
  
"Then, she will die."  
  
Giles was on his feet in seconds, advancing dangerously on the older man. "If you ever touch her, they will never find enough of your body to identify as human remains."  
  
Travers smiled slightly, hearing the tinge of fear in his voice. "You know better than to think you can stop us. If we can't control this Slayer, we will facilitate the coming of one we can."  
  
"Buffy and I together are more than a match for you. And the Council. Now get out."  
  
"Rupert, leave now or watch Buffy die. I'll be seeing you again soon."  
  
There was nothing but hate in his eyes as he watched Travers exit his apartment. His fists were clenching and unclenching, his breath coming in hisses. As he passed his desk, he screamed in rage, shoving a teetering stack of books to the floor.  
  
'Everything will be all right. I will look after Buffy and she will look after me. We defeated the Master. We defeated the Hellmouth. We defeated Angelus. We defeated the Mayor. The Council is nothing but a bunch of old men who've spent too long behind very safe desks in very safe buildings. Together, Buffy and I can beat anything.'  
  
He climbed the stairs to his loft, repeating the words over and over in his head until he was convinced he was right. Even still, he dreaded the time would come soon when Travers would try to make good on his threat.  
  
Giles certainly didn't expect that time to be the very next night.  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
"I'm surprised you wanted to come patrol with me Giles," Buffy smiled up at him as the last sliver of sunlight sank under the horizon. They walked side by side down Sunnydale's main street, headed toward the first of the cemeteries on the route.  
  
"Would you rather I hadn't? I mean I did somewhat...insist."  
  
"I never said I didn't want you here. Actually, I think it's kinda...nice. You haven't wanted to come for a while. I've missed it."  
  
"It's not that I haven't wanted to I just... well I didn't want to crowd your space."  
  
She grinned. "Crowd my space?" She stopped and turned him to face her, bringing the back of her hand to feel his forehead. "Have you been eating any illicit chocolate lately?"  
  
He smiled. "Of course not." They began to walk again. "Don't freak out." She halted immediately, looking at him wide-eyed. He could not contain his laughter. "Joke, sorry."  
  
Buffy playfully swiped at his arm. "So not funny. I only meant that you used to and now you don't. And so now that you are it's... I swear Giles, only you could make me nostalgic weepy over patrol of all things."  
  
"Well perhaps we could make it more of a constant again? If you'd like that is."  
  
"I think I'd very li... Oh hey! Vampire at 12 O'clock!" She began to run ahead, Giles taking off after her, not wanting to let her out of his sight.  
  
The vampire led them in quick pursuit until the gates of Eternal Rest Cemetery where Buffy overtook him. Giles caught up as she engaged the creature in hand-to-hand. She pulled the stake out of her jacket pocket and drew it back. The vampire punched her square in the face and knocked the stake from her grip. Giles instantly dropped the weapons bag he carried and began to rummage for another. Buffy kneed the vampire repeatedly in the stomach. His hand reached out for her throat.   
  
He used his grasp to reel her closer to him, baring his fangs and edging them nearer to her. From his crouched position, Giles could swear he felt something fly by him overhead, the breeze from its passing ruffling his hair slightly. His hand found a stake as he looked up and saw Buffy wince in pain and headbut her opponent. The vampire slashed at the Slayer with his fingernails. Giles saw thin red lines of blood appear on her neck and chest, the top of her tee shirt shredding in the process.   
  
"Buffy!" She turned toward Giles who hurled the stake through the air into her waiting hand. She plunged it into the vampire's chest, obliterating him.   
  
Giles got to his feet and ran to her, gently grasping her upper arms. "Are you all right?"  
  
She nodded her head gently. "Yeah. Poor vamp's version of Freddy Krueger."  
  
He lifted her chin with his finger and observed the damage. "Well, he broke the skin."  
  
"I'm bleeding?"  
  
"Fraid so. What do you say we stop by my place before we continue the patrol? At least get this cleaned up?"  
  
"Works for me. Not like I'm going to be able to sneak up on anything while I'm bleeding. They'll smell me coming."  
  
Giles nodded his agreement, stooping to retrieve his bag before taking light hold of Buffy's arm and walking her towards his house.  
  
In the bushes, across the street from the graveyard, a dark figure watched the retreating man and woman as he disassembled his weapon.  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
Buffy sat on the counter in Giles' bathroom as he ran a cotton ball soaked in antiseptic over the red ridges the vampire's nails had left in its wake. As he moved up her neck, he encountered a slightly larger tear in her flesh. When he touched the cotton to it, she hissed. "Sorry. He got you fairly badly there."  
  
"Yeah, I was noticing that what with the bleeding and the pain and all." She smiled at the exasperated look he gave her. "I'm fine Giles. I got scratched up. Not a big. Don't be so worried."  
  
"Perhaps I have to worry about you because you don't worry enough about yourself. Perhaps I like to worry about you."  
  
"Maybe you need a hobby." She smiled again. "Could you see if you could worry me up a tee-shirt? This one is sorta...demolished."  
  
"I'm sure I've got one you could have." He exited the room and was gone a few minutes before returning with a gray tee shirt. He left again, shutting the door to give her the privacy to change and took the opportunity to add some extra stakes to the bag.   
  
"Ta-da!" Buffy emerged from the bathroom, Giles' tee shirt hanging down to almost her knees. "How do I look?"  
  
He smiled. "Like you could wear the bloody thing for a dress."  
  
"Don't make fun. I've worn shorter."  
  
"To school even."  
  
"Giles! I didn't think you noticed that kind of thing."  
  
He put his hands on his hips. "Buffy when I became a Watcher, I didn't stop being a man you know. You're a very beautiful young woman. You always have been." She blushed sweetly. He cleared his throat. "I am...was your Watcher Buffy. Did you really think I could watch you and not *see* you?"  
  
"I...I don't know what to say."  
  
"Thank you comes to mind." He grinned.  
  
"Thanks."  
  
"You're welcome. Now get your jacket. We have a patrol to finish."  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
They reached the playground at Weatherly Park a little after one in the morning. Buffy noticed a hunched over male figure sitting on the merry-go-round, spinning it with his feet. When he passed before them, they could make out the angles and ridges of its vampire self. Its face was covered in blood. They looked into its hands and saw that it had its fangs buried in a large jackrabbit that'd had the unfortunate luck to amble by.  
  
While Giles sat their bag down, searching through it for back-up weapons, Buffy took out a stake and ran to the merry-go-round, stopping it with her boot. "Okay, now that's just gross! On your feet Fang Boy, Bugs wants justice."  
  
The vampire threw the carcass to the side and stood. Buffy barely held back her laughter. He wasn't even quite eye level with her. "Jesus, I thought Jonathan was short. Let's get this over with Tattoo."  
  
It lunged at her and she put up her hands to block him. She gasped in surprise as he took her to the ground and effectively pinned her. He was too strong! Her legs were pinned beneath his. He grabbed both her wrists in one of his hands and held her arms over her head. She was nearly overcome with panic as his other hand took a vice hold on her jaw and turned her head to the side. "GILES!!!!"   
  
Giles grabbed a crossbow bolt and scrambled to her side. Buffy could feel the vampire lick her neck and let out an anguished, helpless scream. Giles plunged the arrow into the vampire's back. It disintegrated above her and Buffy quickly rolled to the side.  
  
Giles helped her to her feet. She was trembling. He reached out to touch her hair. "Buffy?" She threw her arms around him and cried. He held her, stroking her hair. "It's all right now. He didn't look that strong."  
  
She pulled away. "He wasn't that strong! I was weak!"  
  
"What?"  
  
"God Giles, I felt like I did on my 18th birthday." That was a subject they never discussed anymore. He knew for her to bring it up, it could be no exaggeration.  
  
"Hit me." She looked up, uncomprehendingly. He nodded, smiling gently. "Hit me, hard as you can. Right here," his hand patted the right side of his chest.  
  
"But Giles..."  
  
"Go on Buffy, it's important."  
  
She took a deep breath. "Sorry about this." She backed up a couple of steps, charging forward and punching him where he'd asked her. "OW!" Her mouth fell open in pain and she clutched her fist against her stomach. Giles hadn't moved. He'd barely blinked. "Giles," she whispered, "I have no strength."  
  
He nodded, his hands coming to her arms in comfort. "We've got to get you inside. You're a target like this. We'll get to the bottom of it." She leaned forward against his chest, hugging him for comfort. He swallowed around the lump in his throat. "Buffy, do you need to ask me something?"  
  
Her tearful eyes glittered up at him in the moonlight. At first she didn't understand his question, then it became clear. He was asking her if she needed to know that it wasn't him that had done this to her. She smiled up at him and shook her head. "There's nothing you need to tell me is there?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Then there's nothing I need to ask."  
  
He nodded and smiled. "Let me get you home."  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
Giles spent a sleepless night pouring over every volume he thought might have any information on Buffy's condition. Prophecies, astrological charts, Slayer lore, the few Watcher journals he had managed to keep copies of, nothing provided any answers. His lack of any other solution had only intensified his worst suspicion. As the first rays of daylight filtered through his window, that suspicion was confirmed by the dropping of a tiny metal dart into the crease of the open book before him.  
  
He jumped up, startled by the previously undetected presence behind him. He whirled around, his eyes narrowing as they found Quentin Travers smug face smiling at him in his living room once more. Giles controlled himself just long enough to ask one thing. "The compound?"  
  
Travers nodded. "It was a very small amou..." He soon found his airway constricted as Giles quickly closed the distance between them and seized him by the throat.  
  
"I told you if you touched her, I would kill you."  
  
Even as his skin began to take on a bluish tint, he grinned. "You won't kill me Rupert. I'm the only one who can keep her alive now," his voice was barely audible but his meaning hit Giles like a sledgehammer in the chest. He released the older man's neck, not bothering to be gentle. He began to pace.  
  
Travers moved away, rubbing his neck and taking a seat on the sofa. "As I was saying. It was a very small amount of the compound from The Test. A fraction of what you gave her then. She'll probably be feeling almost up to full strength by the time she wakes up."  
  
"How did you do it?"  
  
"The dart. One just like it was fired from across the street as she fought with that vampire outside the cemetery gates last night. I told you that you couldn't protect her from us. Do you see that now? We got to her when she was less than five feet away from you and you couldn't do anything to stop it. You didn't even know what had happened. If we'd wanted to kill her, she'd be cold by now."  
  
The rage was radiating off of Giles in waves that seemed to heat the air between them. "What do you want?"  
  
"I told you. You have been ordered to leave." He stood as he reached into his coat pocket. He produced a red and blue envelope.  
  
"What's this?"  
  
"It's your ticket. First class, one-way to London. It leaves from LAX at 6 this evening so you'll need to be out of Sunnydale by 3 in order to make your flight."  
  
Giles backed away. "I'm not going anywhere. I won't leave her." His voice seemed weaker even to his own ears as fear spread through his body like a runaway virus.  
  
Travers studied him for a moment, realization dawning as he did so. "I was wrong wasn't I? You don't just love her. You're *in * love with her. Aren't you?"  
  
A flash of guilt crossed Giles' features. "And what if I was? It never interfered with my job. We're a team. Why can't you understand that? The Watcher's job is to keep his Slayer alive!"  
  
"A Watcher's job is to learn from the journals of those who came before him to better train the Slayer to keep *herself * alive and to observe and record his Slayer for the benefit of the Watchers to follow him."  
  
"I won't abandon her. I won't leave."  
  
"You will be on that flight or Buffy will be dead by dawn tomorrow. As you've seen, we can get to her at any time, even right in front of your eyes. I realize that we aren't giving you enough time to see to your belongings. The Council will see to any arrangements you make regarding them but you will leave today. You will sever all contact with her. You will not call, write or visit her." Travers set the ticket on the desk.  
  
Giles stared at the ticket as though it were a warrant for his own death. "One more thing Rupert. You will not say good-bye to her."  
  
The younger man's haunted gaze lifted to look into Travers' cold eyes. "If she knows that it was the Council that * asked* you to leave, it may make her reluctant to reconcile with us. That would be very unfortunate for your Miss Summers' health."   
  
The phone on the desk rang. Rupert reached over the glaring ticket to retrieve the handset. "Hello? Buffy?" Giles sank into the chair as all the breath went out of his lungs.  
  
"Hey Giles. I think you were right last night. I panicked over nothing. It must have been a touch of the flu or something. I feel great today."  
  
"Oh good. I'm...I'm very glad to hear that. It's important to me that you stay...healthy." Giles bit his lip to keep his emotions at bay. He wasn't about to cry in front of Quentin Travers, no matter how much his body disagreed.  
  
"Giles, are you okay? You sound like you're in pain." He inhaled sharply. "You didn't catch this flu bug too, did you?"  
  
"I'm afraid I might have just caught some ill effects of whatever got to you last night." He fixed Travers with a defiant glare. "I think perhaps I may stay in and rest today."  
  
"That's probably best. Sleep seems to have helped me. I gotta get to class, but I'll come by afterwards. Maybe around 4? I'll bring you some chicken soup." He could hear the smile in her voice.  
  
"That would be nice."  
  
"Cool. I'll let you get back to bed."  
  
Giles forced a small smile as he continued to stare at the older man. "Good-bye Buffy."  
  
"Later Giles."   
  
As he hung up, he heard Travers exhale loudly. "Defiant to the last my boy. Well, I hope that got it out of your system. If you're not on that flight when it takes off, I'll see you at Buffy's funeral." He left without looking at Giles even one more time.  
  
When the door shut, Giles ran a hand back through his hair. Unable to hold back his tears any more, they came hard and fast. Perhaps it was best if he did leave if he could no longer keep his true feelings for Buffy hidden. If an unfeeling bastard like Travers could read his heart so clearly, how long before Buffy would see it too? Then again, she hadn't in four years. And for all his previous bravado, he had to accept that they could have eliminated Buffy within arms reach of him and he couldn't protect her.  
  
How could he even consider leaving her, letting her face the Hellmouth's evils alone? He'd go insane being half a world away, wondering as he started his day if she'd made it through the night.   
  
Giles cast a glance out his window as the morning grew later. He had so few hours to decide how the rest of his life and Buffy's would be.   
  
  
  
******  
  
  
At 4:15, Buffy unlocked the door to Giles' darkened apartment and creeped in, balancing a steaming Styrofoam container of soup as she silently shut the door. She quietly made her way to the lightswitch, not wanting to wake him. As she flipped it on, she gasped at the sight it revealed to her. The furniture had been covered with big plastic tarps to keep the dust off of it and the little trinkets that normally adorned the mantle and shelves were missing. Buffy dropped the soup to the floor and ran upstairs, panicked. "GILES??" She took two or three steps in a bound. When she reached the loft, she saw that he was not sleeping in his bed. It was also shrouded in dustcovers. As the terrible fear grew in her chest, she moved to his armoire, yanking off the plastic and flinging open the doors. It was completely empty.  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
Giles turned away from his reflection in the window as the plane left the ground. The flight attendant walked to his seat. "Can I get you anything to drink sir?"  
  
"Scotch, no ice." As she moved off to retrieve his order, he glanced down on the tiny city below him. "Good-bye Buffy." A tear began to roll down his cheek. "I'm sorry."  
  
  
The End 


	2. So Far Away

So Far Away  
(Stolen Series #2)  
  
by GylzGirl  
  
Disclaimer: The Joss, the Frog and the eeeeeevil Fox own the BtVS/Angel crews. The story is my own.  
Rating: PG-13  
Pairing: B/G (or heading there)  
Timeline/Spoilers: This has been Jossed but I'm proceeding along my original plan anyway. So now, this takes place late in Buffy's Freshman year. It splits off from the canon timeline probably after Wild at Heart (Oz is gone but Riley is a non-issue and I don't acknowledge the whole Initiative storyline because I don't care for it.) for BtVS and post-Parting Gifts, Angel-wise.  
Author's Notes: There will be more of this series. Thank you to Kazza, Meawan, Brenda, Dword and Solo.  
  
  
************  
  
  
  
  
Willow and Xander stood expectantly on Giles' doorstep. Buffy's call to them had been nearly frantic.  
  
"Maybe you should knock again," Xander suggested. As Willow was about to, the door opened.   
  
Buffy smiled at them sadly, her eyes red rimmed from hours of crying. "Hey."  
  
"Buffy," Willow rushed forward, lightly touching her friend's arm, "what's wrong?"  
  
She gestured for them to enter the apartment. "See for yourself."  
  
They stepped the rest of the way in, and froze upon seeing the furniture swathed in sheets of plastic. "I don't understand." Willow turned to Buffy again.  
  
"What's to understand? Giles is gone."  
  
"He's dead?" Xander asked.  
  
Buffy shrugged. "I talked to him this morning. He said he wasn't feeling well. I told him I'd bring him over some soup later. When I got here, this is what it looked like."  
  
"This doesn't make any sense Buffy. Giles wouldn't just leave you. He wouldn't. I know that." Willow had on her resolve face.  
  
Buffy brightened a little. "I...have a theory. I need to run it past you guys to see if you think I'm seeing things that aren't there, or if you think I'm right."  
  
"And if you're right?"  
  
She met Xander's gaze. "Then I have to somehow figure out where Giles is and go bring him back."  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
Giles smiled up at the elderly gentleman that opened the huge oaken doors. "Hello James."  
  
The man stared at him, blinked for a moment, and then returned the smile. "Master Rupert?"  
  
"Sorry to arrive unannounced. How've you been?"  
  
"Oh Lady Juliana is going to be so very pleased to see you!"  
  
"How is Gran?"  
  
The butler took the younger man's arm and escorted him through the door. "She's been bored out of her mind with the rains not letting up so that I could take her for her usual strolls through the garden. Are you planning to stay long?"  
  
"As long as she'll have me."  
  
"She'll love that." He showed him to the foyer and motioned for Giles to sit. "I'll advise Her Ladyship you are here." With an extra spring in his step, the older man exited down the hall.  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
Buffy stood and paced before her two friends that were seated on the couch. "When I first found Giles' place like this, I completely freaked out. I couldn't stop crying. I called you guys. Then while I was waiting for you, I started to really think about it. It didn't make any kind of sense to me. When I tried to piece it together in a way that did, I came up with something fairly of the bizarre. But I think it's probably what happened."  
  
"Tell us Buffy," Willow said. "We're your best friends so you can trust us to tell you if you're insane or not." The girls shared a smile.   
  
Buffy took a deep breath. "Factoid one: We all know Giles. This up and moving away without a hint, without a word to any of us, especially when he knew I'd be coming over and I'd find this; it's just not him."  
  
"Agreed," Xander said.  
  
"Factoid two: Giles went from "give Buffy space to develop independence" guy to uber-involved overnight. He insisted on patrolling with me. He insisted on staying with me. It was almost as if he was afraid something was going to happen to me. Like he had a specific reason."  
  
Buffy sat on the coffee table in front of them. "Factoid three: Something *did * happen to me last night. I was fighting a small vampire in Weatherly Park and it almost took me out. I completely lost my Slayer strength. Just like what happened on my 18th birthday."  
  
"Factoid four: I didn't think anything of it at the time, but when I spoke to Giles on the phone earlier... I think he was saying good-bye, but without saying it. I think somebody was here with him so that he couldn't say it. Put it all together and it spells..."  
  
"Watcher's Council," Xander finished.  
  
"Exactly," Buffy sighed. "So you don't think I'm nuts?"  
  
Willow shook her head. "Giles always told us that they weren't likely to take your breaking ties with them lying down. I guess they finally proved him right."  
  
"My guess is they must have threatened my safety a few nights ago, hence Giles insisting on babysitting me on patrol. And last night, they showed him that he couldn't protect me from them. The apartment isn't wrecked, so either they took him by force and cleaned it up, or they threatened to do worse to me if he didn't just up and abandon me."  
  
"That sounds like the Council to me all right," Willow said. Buffy nodded and went to the phone. "Who are you calling?"  
  
"Cordelia. I'm going to see if she can't get Wesley to come down for a few days. We need as much insight into the Council right now as we can get."  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
Giles looked up at the towering painting of his Grandfather that hung in foyer. He observed, not for the first time, that he resembled this man in the portrait who had passed away when he was 10 more than he did his own father really. It was after his Grandfather's funeral that his father had told him of his destiny as a Watcher. Now in the decade since he had last entered the manor, the likeness was more pronounced.  
  
"Where's my glorious boy?" Giles turned and smiled as James wheeled his Grandmother into the room.  
  
"Hardly a boy any longer."  
  
"Oh nonsense. Always a boy to me. Now come and give your Gran a hug." Giles knelt beside the wheelchair and wrapped his arms around her waist. "Welcome home my Love."  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
Wesley smiled as Buffy opened the door to Giles' place. Willow grinned at him as he passed her. "Boy Wesley, jeans and a leather jacket? Cordelia said you changed but...this is a *change*." He blushed as he made his way into the living room.  
  
"Thanks for coming Wes. I...I know I had no right to ask you."  
  
"What do you mean?"  
  
"I'm the one that got you fired."  
  
"You're the one who opened my eyes. And like it or not, you're still my Slayer; at least to me you are."  
  
Buffy smiled and sat on the couch beside him. "I'm sorry I gave you such a hard time."  
  
"You were showing your loyalty to Mr. Giles. A sentiment I believe I've come to share. Now, how can I help you Buffy?"  
  
"It's Giles. I...we need you Wes."  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
Giles and Juliana took their tea in the estate's Victorian parlor. "So my lovely boy, did things not go well in California?"  
  
"Not as well as I'd hoped."  
  
She sat down her cup and covered his hand with her own. "Did you lose your Slayer?"  
  
His smile was sad. "In a way. She's alive though. Thank God."  
  
"I don't understand. If she's alive then what are you doing here?"  
  
"If I tell you something, you have to promise me you won't tell father."  
  
Her eyes crinkled in merriment. "That's the conspiratorial little boy I remember. 'Gran, don't tell Daddy but I let the dogs out and they ruined Mummy's flower bed'."  
  
His inherited smile mirrored her own. "Well...I'm afraid it's a bit more serious than a flower bed this time. I really need your word Gran."  
  
"Do you know that you've had me wrapped around your finger since you were just a warm kicking roundness in your Mother's belly? I give you my promise, Oliver will hear nothing of this from me."  
  
He took a deep breath. "It started about two years ago, just before Buffy's 18th birthday. That's when Quentin Travers came to Sunnydale..."  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
Buffy looked into Wes' eyes. "So, do you think I'm right? Do you think it's the Council?"  
  
"I'd say it was almost surely the Council. And I'd say they didn't take him by physical force or the place would be bare from floorboards to rafters and up for rent again already. No, they must have proved their willingness and ability to kill you if he didn't go and he did the only thing in his power to save you."  
  
Her smile was sad. "Yeah."  
  
Wesley tentatively reached out and tucked her hair behind her ear; a comforting gesture he had seen Giles employ with her. "Giles would never leave you on his own. He's made that abundantly clear over and over. The Council had a hand in this Buffy. There can be no doubt."  
  
She took hold of his hand. "Thanks. Now the question is, what do I do?"  
  
"What do you want to do?" Willow sat in the chair and faced her friend.  
  
"I want to go find him. But...I can't leave Sunnydale...all of you guys unprotected. I mean, if I knew it would take a week or a few days, maybe I could find a way. But it could take that long just to track him down, if not longer. I don't know what I can do about it. I don't know where to start."  
  
"Well, Giles' father is the current Head Chancellor of the Council. Sort of semi-retired though with Travers running things for him."  
  
"He's their leader?" Willow asked. Wesley nodded. "And he let all this happen to his son?"  
  
"It's no secret that they aren't very close. Though, rumor has it amongst the younger Watcher-Candidates that Travers is doing a lot of things that Chancellor Giles knows nothing about."  
  
"If they're not that close though..." Buffy began.  
  
Wes nodded. "I realize. But he might know where Giles would go instead of to him." He leaned closer. "The most important thing is from everything I've heard, the Chancellor is a decent sort of man. A little stern perhaps, but honorable. He very well may not know anything Travers has been up to. Like...reinstating the Slayer Test. Unfortunately, he has contact with no one in the Council but Quentin. As the Slayer however, you would be guaranteed admittance. And I can tell you where the Giles' Estate is located."  
  
"If only I could go."  
  
Wesley stood. "Why don't we all go home and sleep on it overnight? Meet back here in the morning. I'll do some research. Perhaps Willow, you can as well?" She nodded. "We'll figure out a way."  
  
Buffy looked up toward the loft. "I...I think I'm going to stay here tonight. I just, sorta want to."  
  
"There's something else I should tell you all." They all stopped to look at Wes. "Quentin Travers is my uncle. My mother's brother. I assure you, I have about as much affection for him as the rest of you do and his feelings for me are equally warm. I promise you, he will learn nothing from me. However, if you'd feel uncomfortable having me involved, I would understand."  
  
Buffy moved closer and touched his arm. "I trust you Wesley."  
  
He covered her hand. "Then I am here for the duration. Somehow Buffy, we will get Mr. Giles back for you."  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
"Your father should be told about this Rupert."  
  
"No."  
  
"Rupert..."  
  
"No Gran. What makes you think father doesn't know already."  
  
Juliana scowled at him. "You do your father a great disservice by thinking that of him."  
  
"Well, he's still head of the Council after all."  
  
"And Tiberius was still Emperor, but that didn't stop Sejanus."  
  
He considered this. "Point taken. I just have to be very careful here Gran. Buffy's life depends on it. So does mine."  
  
She touched his cheek lightly. "What you need right now is sleep. We both do. You're safe here Rupert. Rest, reflect, decide what you need to do. We'll talk more later." She rang a little silver bell on the table beside her.  
  
A slightly plump woman in her forties with a sweetly round face appeared at the door. "Time for your nap Lady?"  
  
"Yes Emma."   
  
Giles stood as she took up the handles of Juliana's wheelchair. He bent and kissed his Grandmother's cheek. "Sleep well Gran."  
  
Emma wheeled Juliana out of the room. Giles walked to the window and watched the sun begin to set. He sighed as he realized it would be somewhere around dawn right now in Sunnydale. He wondered how Buffy had gotten through the night. He wondered *if* she had gotten through it.  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
Willow pinched the bridge of her nose as the sun began to rise outside her window. She had just finished skimming the last spellbook she owned and she had still found nothing that could possibly help Buffy. Just then, her computer monitor began to beep. She moved back to her desk and maximized the Parasearch Query she had placed an hour ago. She read it quickly at first, then again more slowly to see if she had read it correctly. A secretive smile spread across her face. She quickly printed off the page, grabbed her jacket and headed out the door.  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
Buffy awoke in the hugeness that was Giles' bed. Her face was pressed into the pillow and as she inhaled, she realized it still smelled of him. She breathed a little more deeply and hugged to it. A tear squeezed out of the corner of her eye at the thought that the last tactile thing she would have of him was his scent on the pillow, something that would fade in time and put him forever out of her reach. She curled into a ball on his bed and cried.  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
Willow tapped her fingers nervously on the counter at the hospital. A young nurse finally emerged from the office behind it. "Can I help you?"  
  
"Yes. I um...need to see my cousin. She's a patient here."  
  
"Visiting hours aren't until 10 Honey. You're kinda early."  
  
"I know, and I'm sorry. It's just you see, I was away at school...in England. I only just now heard what happened to her. She's my favorite cousin and I..." Willow sniffled. "I just need to talk to her. Even if she can't really hear me."  
  
The nurse smiled in understanding. "Well, if you're very quiet and don't stay too long, I suppose I can let you sneak a quick visit. What's your cousin's name Honey?"  
  
"Faith. Faith Giles."  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
At 10 am, Buffy opened the door to allow Wesley in.   
  
"Morning," he smiled.  
  
"Morning. Find anything in the research?"  
  
He avoided looking directly into her eyes. "Not as yet."  
  
"Oh." When he finally met her gaze again, he could see the hope draining out of her body.  
  
"Now now, we don't know what Willow's come up with yet. We should wait until we talk to h..." The rest of his sentence was cut short by the sound of Xander bursting through the front door.  
  
"Buffy! You gotta come quick! I cut through the park on my way over here. There's a big green demony thing and he's munching down on the swans in the pond. I think you better get to him before he decides to go for dessert at the school across from it."   
  
Buffy moved to Giles' weapons trunk and produced a medieval double-bladed axe. She gave a sad look to Wesley. "See what I mean? I've lost him, and there's nothing I can do about it."  
  
On her way out the door, Wesley called to her. "Can I come?"  
  
She smiled at him. "Bring a broadsword and stay on the sidelines." Wesley quickly did as he was told and joined her.  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
When Buffy got to the park, her quarry was easy to locate. Besides being 7 feet tall and covered with glistening bright green scales, he had blood and white feathers covering his broad front. "You know, if you'd have just gone to KFC like a good boy, we wouldn't be having this conversation right now." The thing turned to face her.  
  
"Yeah plus they have those neat little wetnap things which you could obviously use," Xander cracked. The demon then focused his attention on Xander.  
  
"Xander, shut up!" Buffy ran for the demon with her axe held high. It calmly caught the axe with one hand, snapped the handle in two, and then batted Buffy away. She flew for a few feet and then landed on her backside.  
  
"Hey Kermit!" A shout rang out from behind the demon. It, and the assembled humans, turned to identify the newcomer.   
  
"Willow no!" Buffy staggered to her feet and was about to rush over to prevent her best friend from being killed when a shocking sight rooted her to the spot.  
  
Willow performed two front flips and kicked the demon square in the chest. It landed in much the same position Buffy had. The redhead then cartwheeled away from it and retrieved the axe-head from the ground. She spun to face the demon as it rose to its feet. Pulling her hand back, she flung the axe-head at the creature. It spiraled like a table saw, traveling with great accuracy before plowing through the demon's neck and severing its head from its body. Both lifeless parts dropped to the ground.  
  
Willow turned to her friends and smiled broadly. Xander was the first to break the silence. "Willow? What the Hell was that?!"  
  
"Since when did you become Xena?!" Finding her legs would once again respond, Buffy approached her.   
  
She moved closer to them and took a deep breath. "Buffy, guys...I'm a Vampire Slayer."  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
After dinner, Giles dismissed the staff for the night. He wheeled his grandmother to her bedroom and positioned her before her vanity. He pulled up the bench behind her and released the gold combs that held her long white hair piled atop her head. He sat them on the vanity and took the ornately decorated brush from its resting place there. He gently unwound Juliana's hair until it hung nearly to the floor and began to brush it in even strokes. She smiled at him in the mirror. "You've always loved brushing my hair. Ever since you were a tiny little thing."  
  
"You've always had the most beautiful hair. Besides, it gave me an excuse to spend time with you without Father thinking that I was trying to get you to spoil me after one of his tirades."  
  
"Even if that's what you were trying to do?" At her knowing look he grinned and nodded. "You know sometimes my Love, I think that I'm responsible for the rift between your father and you."  
  
"Don't be silly Gran."  
  
"No, I mean it. Your father felt similarly about my recruitment of him into the Watcher Society as you did about his doing the same to you. At least you had me. My father had already passed on by the time Oliver knew of his destiny. And I always interfered on your behalf. I put him at a disadvantage and I think that perhaps my actions caused him to be stricter with you."  
  
"As I recall, Father needed little encouragement to be disapproving of me."  
  
"Rupert, did it ever occur to you that you still see your father with the non-comprehending eyes of a child, even if the man you've become might understand where Oliver was coming from if you'd only let yourself?"  
  
"Perhaps," he conceded as he continued to brush.  
  
"Your Father loves you Rupert. He always has. And even if he doesn't show it, he is proud of you."  
  
"Could we...could we change the subject please?"  
  
"Of course Dear. Tell me about your Slayer?"  
  
The smile returned to his face. "She's glorious Gran. Her name is Buffy Summers. She's 19 now."  
  
"A testament to your devotion and skill as a Watcher."  
  
"She's the fastest, the strongest, the most gifted I've ever seen." His eyes virtually danced with pride. Juliana notice something else there too.  
  
"What does she look like?"  
  
"Beautiful. Very petite. Blonde."  
  
"And what is she like?"  
  
"Stubborn and feisty. Loyal, brave, so full of life Gran. She's just...well, amazing."  
  
Her hand over his stopped his brushing. "Did you ever tell her that you were in love with her before you left?"  
  
"What?"  
  
"Did you tell her Rupert?"  
  
"You're mistaken Gran," he turned his eyes away from her gaze. "I do love Buffy. That is to say I-I care for her a great deal. But "in love" with her? No. It-It wouldn't be appropriate at all."  
  
She turned her chair toward him and cupped his face in her hands. "Rupert, since when is love ever an appropriate state of affairs? If you've convinced yourself that you are simply her caring friend, then far be it from me to tamper with that delusion. But I know you my boy, better than just about anyone. You're in love with the girl. Any fool could see that just by the way you speak of her."  
  
"Gran..." he leaned forward and let her hold him.  
  
"I don't mean to upset you my Love. I just fear for your heart if something happens to the girl and you never told her your feelings. Were you so afraid she wouldn't return your love? That she would be offended? Love is always a gift Rupert. Even if it can't be returned in the same manor it was given, the recipient is always the richer for it." She kissed the top of his head and squeezed him a little tighter. "Now I'm tired. Help me to bed dear?"  
  
Giles nodded and put the brush back on the table. He carefully folded back the legs of the wheelchair, stood, and scooped his Grandmother up into his arms. He carried her to the bed, gently lay her down and covered her up. "Night Gran." He kissed her forehead.   
  
She smiled at him as he moved to the door and shut off the light. Giles closed the door to her room and made his way to his own bedroom. As tired as he was, he doubted now that he would get much sleep. His grandmother had given him a lot to come to terms with and as much as he tried to deny it, he couldn't help but be struck by just how right she was.  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
"Willow what were you thinking!?" Buffy paced in front of the redhead sitting on Giles sofa. Xander observed the scene from his seat on the stairs, uncharacteristically quiet. Wesley leaned back against the wall.  
  
"It was the only way for you to find Giles. Sunnydale needed a Slayer in your absence. Now it has one. It's only temporary!"  
  
"What exactly did you do Willow?" Wes asked calmly.  
  
"I found a spell that allowed the caster to transfer power from another person onto them."  
  
"Why didn't you tell us?" Buffy stopped pacing.  
  
"Other than you guys trying to talk me out of our one workable solution? I wasn't sure I could do it. See, the catch to the spell is that the power cannot be transferred without the consent of the power's owner. I wasn't exactly sure Faith would agree."  
  
Buffy shook her head. "Let me get this straight, Faith's awake?" Willow shook her head. "Then how..."  
  
"She's still in there Buffy. And in there, she's almost sane." Willow smiled a little. "Through meditation I was able to ask her. I knew I'd have her answer by whether the power came to me or not. It seems she agreed to it."  
  
"Willow, undo it. You could be hurt," the blonde pleaded.  
  
"She's right Will," Xander added.  
  
"I will undo it. Just as soon as you bring Giles back." She pointed at herself. "Resolve face Buffy. I think you'd better book your flight. Oh and don't forget to tell the University that you'll be taking the semester off."  
  
Unable to persuade her friend to be sensible, Buffy did the only thing left open to her. She embraced Willow tightly. "You're my best friend Will."  
  
"I know," she smiled. When Buffy came to sit beside her, Willow turned her attention to the British man standing by the wall. "Wesley, I...I hate to ask you this."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Well I know you've just started a new life in LA and all but...I'm going to need a Watcher."  
  
He swallowed hard. "Y-you..."  
  
"I got Faith's strength and reflexes. Maybe even a little of her skill, or maybe that was just from watching Buffy all these years, I don't know. But I need training. And I'm clueless about weapons and stuff."  
  
"And...you want me to be your Watcher?"  
  
"Please? I'd feel safer if I had you to help."  
  
The corners of his eyes crinkled in delight. He sniffed back the tears that threatened to fall. "I would be most honored to be your Watcher, Willow Rosenberg."  
  
Willow turned to her blonde friend. "So, everything's in place now. Buffy, go bring Giles home."  
  
She smiled, stood and walked to the phone.  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
Giles tossed and turned in his bed. The night was half-over and he'd had no sleep at all. All he could think about was the accuracy of his grandmother's observations about his feelings for Buffy. And how he really wouldn't be able to live with himself if she died and never knew just how much she meant to him. And how now it was too late because he would never see her, never be able to talk to her again. Fighting tears of frustration, he finally drifted into restless slumber.  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
Buffy watched from her window as the plane ascended into the clouds. Wesley had helped her acquire a passport in a false name in order for her to leave the country without alerting the Council. He had also promised to help hide Willow's Slayer status from the Council. Armed with one suitcase, five hundred dollars, and directions to the Giles' family estate, Buffy was determined to bring Giles back home, no matter what.  
  
The End 


	3. Walking After You

Walking After You  
(#3 in The Stolen Series)  
  
by GylzGirl  
  
Disclaimer: Joss, Fox, UPN and lots of folks with nicer clothes than me own Buffy and her friends. But they're also meanies so the gang came over to play in my yard for awhile.  
Rating: PG-13  
Pairing: B/G, W/W  
Timeline: This has been well and truly Jossed but I'm proceeding along my original plan anyway. This takes place late in Buffy's Freshman year. It splits off from the canon timeline probably after Wild at Heart (Oz is gone but Riley is a non-issue and I don't acknowledge the whole Initiative storyline because I didn't care for it.) for BtVS and post-Parting Gifts, Angel-wise.  
Author's Notes: This would have been finished ages ago but I kept losing sections and having to rewrite them. Now with some distance, I'm glad I lost the first versions :) Thanks to Karen, stoic and brave beta reader. Title and lyrics from Walking After You by the Foo Fighters. There will be more of this series. Goddess knows when, but there you go :-).  
  
  
  
**************  
  
  
  
  
Buffy found herself standing in the English countryside at a crossroads represented on the crudely drawn map she held in her hands. Wesley had made it for her only the day before and now she was here, half a world away, breathing where even the air reminded her of Giles. She inhaled deeply and started down the road that, according to Wesley, led to the Giles family's estate.   
  
It had been a long day. The early hours of the morning had seen her land at Heathrow Airport. A dizzying maze of trains, buses and cabs had led her into the late afternoon and set her on the stone and dirt path that she walked upon now. As she neared the tall wrought iron gate at the end of the path and looked through the bars into the estate there, she found herself double and even triple checking Wesley's paper.  
  
Tall trees and perfectly manicured hedges filled the grounds. The path under her feet continued to wind under the gate and through the foliage up a slight rise in the landscape to the front door of a house the likes of which she'd only ever seen on television. It was a massive, four story, sprawling building. It didn't have the trappings of a castle but was obviously more than a hundred years old and bespoke of wealth by its state of preservation.   
  
It wasn't as though she thought Giles came from a blue collar background. His former membership in the Watcher's Council, let alone his father being the leader of it, seemed to eliminate that possibility. Still, it was the most impressive proof of all he had given up to live in a one bedroom, one bathroom condo in another country to protect a seemingly ungrateful Slayer.   
  
Buffy blinked away tears. Maybe it wasn't the Council after all. Maybe he had simply gotten sick of her. She knew that if she had all this to go back to, and the only thing keeping her from it was a person who rarely showed their appreciation of her or the lov...affection they felt for her, she would certainly consider leaving.   
  
She took a deep breath. No. No matter what else, she knew that she knew her Giles. Why would he leave just as things between them seemed to be getting... interesting? If he wanted to leave, he would come to her. And if he hadn't thought he could come to her, then he would just have to educate her to that fact face to face. "As soon as I find his face," she muttered under her breath.   
  
She turned at the sound of a car approaching behind her. A limousine with tinted windows had just turned toward her direction from the crossroads. She sprinted for cover behind some of the trees on the outer perimeter of the fence, peeking between their trunks as the car drove up to the gate. The window rolled down and she saw a uniformed driver speak into an intercom box on a brick pillar near the fence. The gate clicked and then opened wide enough to allow the car to drive past.   
  
Not wanting to reveal herself until she had more of an idea what the situation she had herself in was exactly, she backed off from the trees and jumped over the fence. As soon as her feet touched down on the other side, she ran along the hedges, trying to keep sight of the car as it pulled to a stop just outside of the front door.   
  
The driver got out of the car and moved to the rear passenger door. Buffy crouched behind a bush and peered around the side of it. She wondered if it was Giles' father in the car and if he'd look very much like her Watcher. She found herself holding her breath when she realized that the man who had just exited the car was in fact Quentin Travers. For the first time since she arrived in England, she was glad she hadn't brought her crossbow with her. Her current vantage point might have very well proved too tempting with her favorite flying fatality launcher in hand.   
  
Travers ascended the front steps and knocked. A dignified looking man in a nice suit greeted him and allowed him admittance. The driver leaned against the hood of the car and unfolded a newspaper to read.   
  
Sighing, Buffy settled on the ground behind the bush. Making sure she still had a clear line of sight to the front door and the driver, she pulled a slightly abused granola bar from her jacket pocket, tore open the wrapper, and began the process of waiting.   
  
  
  
******  
  
  
Rupert Giles pushed his grandmother's wheelchair along an uneven stone-paved path behind the mansion. He stopped to open a gate to let them through to another section of the grounds. It was overgrown with ivy and wildflowers but enough wooden and metal equipment peaked out from beneath the greenery to identify it as a training course. Giles continued to assist Juliana along the path toward a wooden structure that stood before three great mounds of dirt.   
  
Once there, he parked her chair, putting the brakes on. "All right here?"  
  
"Of course dear." She handed him a key. He took it from her and began to walk toward the wood rail that stood just before the mounds. Adjacent to the rail was a narrow cabinet. He used the key to unlock it and pulled from its confines a large white rectangle with a human silhouette printed on it. Locking the door again and pocketing the key, he made his way to the rail. With great effort, he pried apart a rain-rusted clip on the rail just enough to pinch the thin edge of the target and hold it in place.  
  
On his way back to his grandmother, Giles noted with a smile that Juliana had already retrieved the rifle he'd brought from the satchel on the back of her chair and was making sure it was properly loaded and in good firing condition.  
  
"Everything in good order Colonel?"   
  
She arched an eyebrow at him before handing over the firearm. "Just mind yourself there young man. Stop making fun of your old Gran and show me what you're made of."   
  
He bent to take the gun and gave her a kiss on the cheek before he straightened and moved away a few feet to line himself up with his target. He took a deep breath, raising the rifle and nestling the weapons' butt against his shoulder. As he slowly squeezed the trigger, his thoughts momentarily drifted off to the fact that he'd never once shown Buffy how to use a real gun. The crossbow had been the extent of their projectile weapons training. There was still so much he could have shown her. The shell took a half circle out of the lower left corner of the rectangle but came nowhere close to the human-shaped form.   
  
"Concentrate on your target boy. You're not going to hit anything doing it that way. Well, certainly not what you're aiming at."  
  
Giles turned a mock angry eye toward his Grandmother, who was grinning ear to ear. "I'll have you know I hold several medals in marksmanship."  
  
"Yes my love, and all of them silver."   
  
"Well, silver is much more practical in our line of work anyway." He again leveled the rifle at the silhouette in the distance.  
  
"Are you going to make excuses all afternoon or are you going to fire?" He took a calming breath and began to squeeze the trigger. "How is Buffy with firearms?"   
  
Giles pulled the trigger and missed the target by several yards. He put the rifle down on the ground and sighed. "I give up."   
  
"Always so stubborn my love."   
  
"All right, all right. You win Gran. I do love Buffy. But it doesn't matter now. I can't ever see her again, and I know she didn't feel that way toward me. And even if she had before, I'm sure she was so hurt by my leaving that she wouldn't feel that way anymore." Juliana smiled at her grandson. "What is it now you wicked woman?" he said, grinning at her.   
  
"You said you know Buffy didn't love you in return and then began dreaming up consequences to your leaving in case she did happen to love you, which means in fact you don't know at all. You assumed she couldn't love you, and then pussyfooted around until now you don't know if your chance may be gone."   
  
"That I do know Gran. I've lost her forever."   
  
She patted his hand. "While there's life, there's hope my darling. Wait and see, wait and see."  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
Wesley sat next to Willow on a bench in Weatherly Park. "So, any word from Xander?"   
  
She shrugged and itched a finger under the blonde wig she wore. "Not really. I mean, it's not like he isn't speaking to me outright. He's just being all Mr. Mopey."   
  
"He's still upset with you?"   
  
"A little. He'll get over it. He's just really worried right now. And I think he wishes that he could have been the one Slayerized instead of me."   
  
"Ah."   
  
"Oh not that he's jealous I don't think. Just that, he's always kinda felt like he would be really good at being a superhero if it wasn't for the average strength, good chance at being killed part of it. And I know he'd rather it was him in danger than me. He worries."   
  
Wesley smiled. "So you've said."   
  
She smiled back. "Sorry. I don't think I'm thinking straight right now. My head itches like this wig is made of poison ivy and I don't know how Buffy walks in these pants, let alone fights."   
  
"Well, not that you don't look becoming as a blonde but I at least prefer you as you are." Willow blushed a little and tilted her head shyly. "Unfortunately, it is best to convince anyone coming across the Slayer of Sunnydale that it is in fact Buffy. It will keep her excursion hidden longer, and also, when you go back to just being Willow, no one will be after you for having been the Slayer."   
  
"I hadn't thought of that really."   
  
"And as for fighting in tight pants, you'll be surprised at how easy it can be. And it's practical as well. If your enemy can't get their hold of the loose material, they have at least one less maneuver they can try against you."   
  
"You've fought in tight pants before?" She grinned.   
  
Now it was his turn to bow his head a little. "Um...well... yes."  
  
"I guess you'll have to show me how sometime."  
  
His eyes met hers, sizing up the dare, trying to ascertain how serious she was. He smiled slowly and with more confidence than she had ever seen in him, simply replied. "It's a date."  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
Keeping an eye on the house, Buffy nibbled on her granola treat. She was trying to think positively. Even though Wes had said it was unlikely that Giles would go to his parents, she couldn't help picturing him in there. She liked the idea that he was simply a few feet away and all she had to do was wait for Travers to leave before they would be reunited and she could get everything sorted out between them.  
  
Even she had to smile at her own naive stupidity then. Since when was anything between them uncomplicated enough to sort out in a few minutes? Especially when their last few days together had been so clearly veering from the safe familiar terrain of their normal relationship and into something more mature and intimate. They had both realized it was happening, both taking things easy to see if the other would speak up and put a halt to the natural progression. But neither one had. If anything, it had gone further, becoming an outright flirtation. Then all of this happened.  
  
Buffy crumpled the snack wrapper in her hand and put it in her pocket. No. Now wasn't the time to doubt herself. The last phone call with Giles, her own instincts, everything pointed to his disappearance being involuntary. She had to believe in that the same way that she believed she would be with him again soon.  
  
The door to the mansion opened and Quentin Travers stepped out. The driver quickly folded his newspaper away and went to open the back door for him. The two exchanged a few words, though Buffy wasn't close enough to make them out, and then Travers got into the vehicle.  
  
As the driver got in and started the motor up, Buffy's heart began to beat faster. She was so close now. Giles very well might be just behind that door. The car started back down the path it had come from and Buffy had to restrain herself from bounding out of her hiding spot and running up to the porch. All of it would be for nothing if Travers knew she was there.  
  
After what seemed like an eternity, the car had passed the gates, left the grounds, and driven off into the distance to where Buffy could just barely make it out. Taking a calming breath, Buffy stood up behind the bush and walked confidently to the front door. She wrapped her comparatively small hand around the large knocker there and rapped twice. She could hear echoing footsteps approaching from within and smoothed down her hair and her jacket front.  
  
The door opened and the same dignified man she saw earlier stood before her, his expression impassive. She took a deep breath and smiled. "Hi. I'm here to see Mr. and Mrs. Giles. My name is Buffy Summers."  
  
Recognition registered on his face, "The Slayer?"  
  
She nodded. "That's me."  
  
He stood back, holding the door open for her. "Right this way Miss."  
  
Buffy was a little leery that it could be so easy, but the promise that Giles could be inside drew her forward into the house.  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
Giles stood in his Grandmother's drawing room. When they'd returned from the firing range, he had taken Juliana upstairs and helped her to bed for her afternoon nap. He had come to this room to lose himself in one of the many volumes that lined the shelves. Quiet moments led to an uninterrupted stream of thoughts about Buffy. And that was almost more than he could bear right now. His finger trailed along the leather spines until he found something interesting.  
  
He took the book from the shelf and blew a thin layer of dust from the cover. Of the many volumes authored by his great-grandfather, this was one he had always passed over in his youth. In fact, he couldn't ever remember reading it. He had read his ancestor's journals and supernatural texts. He had never seemed to find the time to read his one and only fictional novel.  
  
Giles sat, opening the book to the front page. He read the dedication out loud. "To my beloved Amelia. When the night becomes too dark, I come home to your golden hair and emerald eyes and all is well." He exhaled. He knew it had been written about his great-grandmother a good 90 years before he was born, but it might as well have been written about Buffy. It seemed that even this progenitor was as eager to drive his thoughts back to Buffy as his grandmother was. Giving himself up to whatever his ancestor had to communicate to him through this story, he turned the page and began to read.  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
Willow sighed and jumped up to sit on the graveyard wall. "You know, somehow when Buffy's doing this, it seems so much more exciting."  
  
Wesley leaned against the wall beside her. "You're not having a good time?"  
  
She looked at him questioningly. "Patrol is about having a good time?"  
  
"Well... no not really. I just meant, you're not enjoying the company?"  
  
"OH! No! No Wes it's not that. I'm having a lot of fun just talking to you. Really! I just... thought I'd be slaying something as a Slayer. That's all I meant."  
  
"Ah, feeling a little restless?"  
  
"Yeah, something like that I guess."  
  
"Well I can understand that. With the power comes the instincts. And the instincts are especially active in places such as... well this." He gestured to the cemetery before them. "But I'm happy to be here with you Willow. I tried to patrol with Buffy, but unless Giles was invited along, I wasn't wanted either."  
  
"That didn't have anything to do with you Wesley, you know that don't you? It wasn't because you were a bad Watcher or anything, it was just because... well Buffy and Giles are... sort of their own little unit. Two heads, one heart kind of thing. You should be on the sidelines when it's just the two of them in battle. It's like choreography. They know each other so well. I mean, Xander and I have been a part of that at times... but not like the way those two move with each other."  
  
"I never stood a chance eh?"  
  
She smiled and put her hand on his shoulder. "No one ever could have. And I'm sorta glad. Now I get my very own Watcher and I get to break him in personally."  
  
He arched an eyebrow. "Virgin terrain?"  
  
She flushed pink. "Uh... Wesley."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Behind you!"  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
The butler entered the sitting room where a woman sat doing needlepoint in a high-backed antique-looking chair. "My Lady. May I present Miss Summers. The Slayer." Instantly, the woman put her craftwork to the side, stood up and walked toward them.   
  
Buffy could tell right away that this could only be Giles' mother. Her hair was a steel gray and Buffy guessed it was probably quite a dark colored brown when she was younger. The few shallow lines on her face seemed to center around her mouth and the corners of her eyes, telling of a face aged with laughter. Knowing the kind of life this woman must have seen with both husband and son in the slaying game, she imagined she must have a very good disposition. She could already feel herself liking her.  
  
"Miss Summers?" The woman smiled warmly.  
  
Buffy returned it. "Buffy please."  
  
She nodded. "Buffy then. I am honored to meet you." She took Buffy's hand in hers.  
  
"Are you Giles' Mom?"  
  
"I am."  
  
Buffy smiled. "Then I'm the one who's honored Mrs...uh Lady Giles." She and Giles really were going to have to have a long talk.  
  
"Sarah."  
  
"Sarah," Buffy said.  
  
"Did you bring our Rupert with you?"  
  
With that one question, Buffy felt as though all the air in her lungs had suddenly evaporated. "You...you mean he isn't here? He hasn't been here?"  
  
"No dear."  
  
Tears pricked at Buffy's eyes. "Oh."  
  
Sarah Giles put her arm around the younger woman's shoulders and led her toward the divan. "Charles," she looked to the butler. "Fetch my husband please."  
  
"But, His Lordship asked that he not be..."  
  
"Charles, this is the Slayer. No amount of Council paperwork is as important as the girl the Council exists to support! Now tell him to come down at once!"  
  
"Right away My Lady."  
  
Buffy forced a weak smile and looked into Sarah's warm brown eyes. "Giles is a lot like you, you know?"  
  
"I'd like to think so," she said as Giles' grin broke out on her face.  
  
"No I mean it. Your son is wonderful, do you know that? He's taken such good care of me."  
  
"I'm very proud to hear that Buffy."  
  
"Sarah, what's going on?" A male voice drifted into the room before its owner appeared. "Charles was muttering something about..." He stopped when he saw Buffy. "Miss Summers?"  
  
Both women stood. Sarah moved to her husband's side. "Buffy, this is Rupert's father. Oliver Giles."  
  
"Hi." The way Giles always avoided speaking of his father, she had really expected him to be a very stern, older version of her Watcher. She wasn't expecting the kind-faced man that stood before her. Because it wasn't how she pictured him, she felt even more trepidation about taking this man into her confidence.  
  
"Please sit down."  
  
She crossed her arms over her chest. "I'll stand thanks."  
  
"Can we get you some tea? Something to eat? You've come such a long way."  
  
"I don't mean to be rude, but I didn't come that long way to sit down for a snack. I came for Giles."  
  
Oliver sat with a sigh of disappointment. "He ran off on you, did he?"  
  
"Oliver!" Mrs. Giles left no doubt that had she been within striking distance he would have been sporting a slapped arm.  
  
Buffy was indignant. "Only because he was forced to."  
  
"I don't understand. Are you trying to tell me Rupert was... abducted?"  
  
"You mean, you didn't order him to abandon me?"  
  
"Certainly not. Watchers are only removed from their Slayer in cases of gross misconduct. And no matter what my son may have done in the past, there are certain things I would never believe about him."  
  
"Gross misconduct meaning?"  
  
"Well, placing one's Slayer in unnecessary harm. Forcing unwanted romantic feelings upon her..."  
  
"So you really didn't take him away?"  
  
"Of course not."  
  
"Lord Giles?" Boy did that sound wrong. "I need you to answer me something truthfully."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Were you aware that the Slayer test had been reinstated?"  
  
A look of horror came across the elder Giles' face. "I would never have sanctioned that."  
  
Finally, Buffy sat beside Mrs. Giles. "Then I think we need to have a little talk about a friend of yours. Quentin Travers."  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
Willow grabbed Wes by the arms and shoved him behind her as three large male vampires loomed into view. Before he could say a word, Willow had a stake secured in her hands and had leapt into the fray. Wesley too procured a stake from his pocket, ready to back her up should the need arise. Until she needed him though, he didn't want to distract her by getting in the way. He decided to do as his title instructed, and watch.  
  
He may not have been welcome on patrol with Buffy, but that didn't mean he'd never seen her fight. He had. He'd seen Faith fight as well. Patrolling with Buffy may have shown Willow the moves, and Faith may have loaned her the power, but she was unique. Buffy's fighting style spoke of her training. Perfectly executed moves that married Giles' endless hours of instruction with her own innate agility. Faith was a barroom brawler with a little finesse thrown in. Willow fought as though she'd been ambushed in an ally and she was sparring for her life.  
  
Within seconds, she had staked one vampire. Using the surprise of the other two against them, she jumped on one, taking him to the ground and struggling for an opening to stake him. When she could, she spared a kick to the vampire still standing. Trying to keep him away until she was ready to take him on.  
  
A hard knee to the stomach allowed Willow the room to flip her opponent off of her. She pushed up into a backbend and flipped up until she was over the vampire she'd been fighting with. Before he could get his bearings, she had driven the stake through his heart.  
  
She stood, but before Wesley could warn her, the remaining vampire had grasped her by the hair. As he pulled, the wig she wore came off in his hand. As Willow scrambled to get out of his grasp, he made another grab at her, this time getting a firm grip of her natural red locks. He closed his grip, his fingernails slicing a deep gash into her forehead. Expecting her to struggle, he was thrown off when she simply dropped all her weight down. Her hair slid through his fingers until she landed on her bottom on the ground. When she did, she lay back and stabbed the stake into the vampire's ankle. She did a backwards somersault through his legs to get out of his way as he fell down.  
  
She jumped to her feet, standing over him. He made a swipe for her legs, which she deftly dodged, presenting him with a kick to the face for his trouble. When he started to crawl away, she kicked him in the back until he flattened out. Then she dropped to a kneel on top of him and quickly brought the stake down. She stood as he crumbled into dust.  
  
Breathing heavily from the exertion, she looked up to make sure that Wesley was unharmed. He stood safely a few feet away, picking leaves out of her discarded wig. His eyes met hers and she shrugged. As she made her way over to him, she reached up and began removing the bobby pins from her hair.  
  
Wesley smirked at her. "No witty banter?"  
  
"With one you get witty banter. With three, you stake and ask questions later." She brought her hand up the bleeding cut on her forehead. "Ow."  
  
"Yes, well, I have to say you were magnificent. Let's go back to Giles' and I'll get that cut cleaned up."  
  
He put his arm around her shoulders and offered her a handkerchief to hold to the wound. She smiled up at him. "Magnificent huh?"  
  
"Entirely. And we'll work on your banter later."  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
Juliana wheeled herself into the drawing room. Giles looked up at her arrival and put his book away. "Did you have a nice nap?"  
  
She smiled at him. "I sleep too much. One day soon I'm going to lay down and I won't wake up and I'll wonder why I slept so much of my remaining days away."  
  
He frowned. "Don't say things like that. You're perfectly healthy. Aren't you?"  
  
"Yes my love, I am. So my doctor says at least. But I'm also 90 years old. It's not a wild exaggeration."  
  
He rose and walked behind her chair. Leaning down he wrapped his arms around her. "I don't like to think about it."  
  
She smiled and patted his arm with her hand. "I wouldn't think you'd be uncomfortable at the thought of a natural death."  
  
"When it's my Gran I am. And death is death. It means never seeing that person again. And the thought of never being able to see you again is not something I enjoy."  
  
"All right. I didn't mean to upset you. We'll speak of something else."  
  
He kissed her cheek. "Thank you." He let go and sat in the chair closest to her.  
  
"Tell me more about your Buffy then."  
  
He couldn't help a grin. "Out of the frying pan, into the fire."  
  
"Now indulge me boy. My eyes are too bad for romance novels. I have to get my thrills where I can."  
  
He broke out laughing, as she had hoped he would. "What you're asking for would be more of a romance pamphlet. There have always been ambiguously hopeful glances, and touches, and... moments. And lately, it seemed as though it was surely heading into more. But that's over now."  
  
"Only until you find a way to solve this problem of Travers."  
  
"I don't think there is a way to solve it. And even if I did, who am I kidding? This whole mess is a sign Gran."  
  
"What nonsense!"  
  
"I'm too old for her for a start."  
  
"Don't be foolish Rupert. You're hardly ready for the rest home yet. And you know, my father was quite a bit older than my mother when they married. And even older when they had me."  
  
He smiled. He'd wondered why she hadn't mentioned the book he'd been reading. Now he knew. "Yes, but it didn't hurt that your father was something akin to a god. No Watcher in his right mind would have objected to his daughter marrying him. And, I'm sure your mother was no less awestruck."  
  
"Yes, my father was very handsome even the day he died. But, you are more so my dear. And you are no less a god in many people's eyes."  
  
Giles was quite pink now, and trying not to laugh. "I think you'll find no shrines to my deification on any of the 7 continents."  
  
"No? Whatever Travers may have done, I still hear things from Watcher's circles. Buffy is one of the oldest Slayers of record. And none that lived to be her age had half of her battle experience. You have become the brilliant Watcher your father and I always knew you would be. There are so many in the academy who wish to model themselves after you."  
  
He shook his head. "I'm no role model."  
  
"Rupert, won't you just call your father?"  
  
"Gran... I can't risk it. I'm sorry." He sighed and stood up.  
  
"All right Dear. Calm yourself. We won't speak of it any further today."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"But I make no promises about tomorrow." They exchanged smiles. "So, tell me what you've been doing with yourself, outside of your Watcherly duties, since being a librarian."  
  
He leaned against the wall. "I took a good long while off... perhaps too long. And then..."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"I had a sort of recurring thing at a local coffee house."  
  
"Doing?"  
  
"Well, singing...and playing guitar."  
  
Her eyes lit up at that. "You've started playing again?"  
  
He smiled at her. "I never really stopped. But recently I've been doing it a lot more."  
  
"Did you bring your guitar with you?" He nodded. She smiled at him. "Well my child, are you going to make me beg you?"  
  
He walked to the stairs. "I'll be right back."  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
Oliver Giles sat heavily, letting what Buffy had told him sink in. "I find this all very hard to accept."  
  
Buffy looked to Mrs. Giles, who seemed as disturbed by the situation as she herself was. "I am telling you this as the Slayer. I'm risking a lot by doing it. Maybe even my life. I've come to you because I don't feel like I have any other choice. But I'm trusting you based on the honor of your son. Now, as I said, I can't prove that Travers made Giles leave, but I've told you what he's done to the both of us in the past, and the evidence I based my conclusion on. Do you believe me?"  
  
Oliver exhaled. "I understand that you believe what you've just told me to be true, however I need to investigate this further. In the meantime, you must keep out of sight."  
  
"Thanks. But I have to find Giles."  
  
"It may not be safe."  
  
"With all due respect Sir, I'm the Slayer. Safe wasn't in the contract. Please, do you know where Giles would go?"  
  
He looked to his wife who nodded in return. "I can't be completely sure, because he hasn't contacted me at all, but rather than come here, he would likely go to my mother's. Rupert and his Grandmother have always enjoyed a closeness that I never could seem to achieve with my son."  
  
Buffy smiled understandingly. "Well Giles can be... stubborn."  
  
"You don't say," he grinned in return.  
  
"Wonder where he gets that from," Sarah said as she held her husband's gaze.  
  
"Can you give me directions?"  
  
"I can have Charles take you there."  
  
Buffy stood. "No. Thanks but no. I'd feel safer getting there on my own."  
  
Oliver nodded. "I understand. Sarah, can you draw her a map? I need to find out just what Travers has been up to."  
  
"Certainly." Sarah rose and placed her hand on Buffy's shoulder. "I'll get you directions, a map and a torch. I'll have Charles see if any of the bicycles in the shed are still serviceable. And we'll make a stop in the kitchen before you go so that you can collect some food to take with you."  
  
On their way out the door, Oliver's voice stopped them. "Buffy, if you find Rupert at my mother's, tell him to stay put, and you stay with him. It's out of the way and you'll both be safe there."  
  
"And if he's not there?"  
  
"Then unless my mother knows where he's gone, you stay there and get hold of me. We'll find Rupert somehow but not by putting you in danger to do it."  
  
She nodded. "Okay. And thanks."  
  
Sarah escorted her out of the room. Oliver ran a hand back through his hair and exhaled. After a moment of silence, he walked to the phone, picked it up and began to dial. "Yes, this is Oliver Giles. I need to speak with Quentin Travers. It's urgent."  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
"Wes, I'm fine. I've got Slayer healing now remember? Won't even be a scratch by tomorrow."  
  
"Yes and your Slayer healing will have a much easier time of it if you'd just let me clean and bandage this cut properly."  
  
Finally Willow quieted and Wesley gently swabbed the antiseptic over the angry red gash. His warm hand trailed behind on the uninjured skin below the cut, soothing with its contact. He carefully applied the bandage and met her eyes.  
  
"Okay, confess. You only made such a fuss so that you could cuddle my forehead." She was joking.  
  
Wes was serious. He smiled warmly, one finger tracing down the length of her nose. "Shh, don't tell anybody."  
  
She gulped, aware that she couldn't seem to take her eyes from his but also couldn't think of anything to say to break the moment's intensity. At least, nothing that wouldn't add to the intensity.  
  
Just then, the phone rang. Wesley smiled, stroking her cheek with the back of his finger as he walked to the desk to answer it. Willow exhaled in relief.  
  
"Hello?" He paused. "No, no this isn't Rupert Giles, this is his brother."  
  
Willow looked up questioningly. She couldn't imagine who he could be talking to that would require that particular fib.  
  
"What?" Wesley seemed to stop breathing for a moment. "Yes. Yes I see. Th-thank you." He hung up the phone and turned to face Willow with a somber expression.  
  
"What?"  
  
He moved to her slowly, sitting beside her on the sofa. Gently, he took her hands in his own. "Willow."  
  
"Was it Buffy? Did something happen to Giles? Did Buffy get hurt? Wes you're scaring me to death! What is it?"  
  
"Willow, that was the hospital..."  
  
"Oh God, Xander! Is-is he okay? We should get down there. He's allergic to penicillin and..."  
  
"It's not Xander, Willow."  
  
"Then?" Confusion swam in her deep green eyes.  
  
"It's Faith. She's...passed on."  
  
"What?"  
  
"Faith's dead Willow."  
  
The redhead paused to take that information in. Then her eyes met Wesley's again. "No."  
  
"I'm afraid so Love," he said quietly. "There's no one to give the power back to anymore. You are now a real Slayer."  
  
Willow Rosenburg, hacker goddess, dean's list student, Wicca prodigy and the latest inheritor of the title "Chosen One" promptly passed out in her Watcher's arms.  
  
  
  
******  
  
  
Giles settled in a large chair opposite his grandmother. "I've only just learnt this song so it may not be very good yet." He took a few seconds to make sure the strings were in tune, then began a brush strum and closed his eyes.  
  
"Tonight I'm tangled in my blanket of clouds, dreaming aloud. Things just won't do without you, matter of fact. I'm on your back.  
  
"If you walk out on me, I'm walking after you. If you walk out on me, I'm walking after you.  
  
"If you'd accept surrender, give up some more. Weren't you adored? I cannot be without you, matter of fact. I'm on your back.  
  
"If you walk out on me, I'm walking after you. If you walk out on me, I'm walking after you. Another heart is cracked in two. I'm on your back..."  
  
A knock on the door interrupted the private performance and Giles leaned the guitar against the chair. He rose and walked to the door. As he opened it, his breath caught at the sight of his Slayer, smiling at him on the other side.  
  
  
  
  
The End 


	4. Nothing Else Matters

Title: Nothing Else Matters (#4 in the "Stolen" Series)  
Author: GylzGirl  
Rating: PG-13  
Pairings: B/G, W/W  
Disclaimer: Joss, Fox, UPN and lots of folks with nicer clothes than me own Buffy and her friends. But they're also meanies so the gang came over to play in my yard for awhile.  
Distribution: buffygiles.com, Dee, Dword, My sites. If you had permission to post the first three stories in the series, go ahead and take this one. Anyone else, just ask.  
For archiving purposes, this fic should be one part. It was broken up for size on the lists.  
Timeline: This has been well and truly Jossed but I'm proceeding along my original plan anyway. This takes place late in Buffy's Freshman year. It splits off from the canon timeline probably after Wild at Heart (Oz is gone but Riley is a non-issue and I don't acknowledge the whole Initiative storyline because I didn't care for it.) for BtVS and post-Parting Gifts, Angel-wise.  
Author's Notes: Thanks to Karen for the Beta. This is not the last part of this story :)  
  
******************************  
  
  
Buffy stood in the doorway, smiling at her wayward Watcher. Giles, for his part, simply grinned back. She put her hands on her hips. "I don't know whether to hit you or hug you."  
  
His eyes flashed down in what seemed to be embarrassment before meeting hers again. "I know which one I'd rather."  
  
Needing no further invitation, she launched herself into his arms. Giles held her so tight her feet were dangling above the ground.  
  
"I'm sorry," he whispered.  
  
"I was so worried! God Giles, I was so afraid… so afraid I'd never see you again." Buffy could feel her throat beginning to constrict with emotion.  
  
"I'm sorry," Giles repeated, also beginning to choke up.  
  
"Ahem." The noise caused Buffy and Giles both to look toward the foyer. For the first time, Buffy noticed the elderly woman smiling at them from her wheelchair. "I don't wish to disturb the moment but I'd feel better if you both came away from that open door."  
  
"She's right," Giles said, reluctantly letting her go to close the door. "This isn't safe." He gently put his hand on her shoulder and looked at her with regret. "You shouldn't be here."  
  
"Nonsense," Juliana said before Buffy even had a chance to argue. "This is exactly where you need to be, the two of you. You'll not get anything accomplished pining away for each other, thousands of miles apart."  
  
"Gran," Giles said through clenched teeth as he began to blush.  
  
"This is your Grandmother? The one who was a Watcher?" Buffy asked, smiling.  
  
"Yes. Sorry. Forgive me. Gran, this is Buffy Anne Summers, my Slayer. Buffy, this is my grandmother, Lady Juliana Eleanor Giles."  
  
"Yes, well don't let him scare you with all the fancy names Dear. You feel free to just call me Gran as he does, won't you?" Buffy nodded in ascent. "Now, come over here a moment and let me get a proper look at you." Buffy walked closer and Juliana smiled, casting a look over to a nervous Rupert. "You're every bit as beautiful as my grandson claimed."  
  
Buffy turned to him. "You said I was beautiful?"  
  
Giles sighed in defeat as he looked between the two women watching him with knowing smiles. "Pay that horrible woman no mind, Buffy." He said smiling ruefully as he walked to his Grandmother's chair. He took hold of the handles at the back of the chair and prepared to wheel her along with them.  
  
She shooed his hands away. "Now Rupert, take Buffy into the drawing room where she can rest while the two of you talk. I'm going to have Emma make her something nice to eat and have James prepare a room. She needs someplace safe to stay until this whole situation is resolved. And you two… you need some time together."  
  
Juliana wheeled herself down the hallway while Giles and Buffy went to the drawing room and sat on the couch.   
  
"I'm afraid my grandmother has rather romantic notions."  
  
"I think she's adorable."  
  
"Well yes… I wasn't arguing that. I just meant I-I'm afraid she's got the wrong impression about… well us… the two of us."  
  
Buffy held his gaze. "Is it the wrong impression though?"  
  
"Buffy…" he closed his eyes.  
  
"Don't look away, Giles." He opened then again. "We've both looked away for so long… and there just isn't time for that anymore." She took a deep breath.  
  
"Buffy, what exactly are you saying?"  
  
She smiled. "I'm saying…I'm saying that I don't know what I'm saying and I'm not all that sure what I'm about to do here but…back in Sunnydale, before you left, something was happening with us, wasn't it? Something was changing." She looked to him, waiting for him to agree or deny it. He said nothing so she went on. "I sort of got the feeling that you had your own romantic notions about us." Again, he remained silent. "And at the time I thought maybe I was beginning to feel the same way toward you. And then you left. And until I figured out what happened, it felt like all the light… all the hope had gone out of my world" Her eyes met his. "Despite mountains of evidence to the contrary, even I'm not dense enough that I can't see the truth when it's jumping up and down in front of me."  
  
"Since when?" he teased.  
  
She grinned. "Giles, what I'm trying, apparently not so successfully, to say is…"  
  
"I love you," he said.  
  
"You took the words right out of my mouth."  
  
"No I mean…" he sighed. "I mean I love you. That is I…I'm in love with you."  
  
She licked suddenly dry lips. "Giles?" She smiled, pleasantly surprised at his admission.  
  
"I have been for awhile now..." He rambled on, somewhat afraid of the inevitable 'Ewww' that had always awoken him from this particular fantasy.  
  
"Giles."  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Me too." He smiled. "I guess I didn't realize it until I thought I'd lost you." She grinned. "Well, that and I was just sort of enjoying the slow build-up. Freakin' Slayer just doesn't get to take anything slow, I guess."  
  
"I suppose not."  
  
She waited for him to say more, when he didn't, she exhaled loudly. "Well that's a kick in the pants, isn't it?"  
  
"I don't think I follow you."  
  
"You say you love me. I say I love you. You'd sort of expect the world to stop spinning or, hey, here's a thought, some show of affection? But not us. We sound like we're discussing an article in the paper. And not a very interesting one at that." She looked into his eyes. "Are we both so afraid of this? We who fight the vampires and werewolves and ghosts?"  
  
"Well technically you don't *fight* a ghost, you…"  
  
"Giles, for goodness sakes!"  
  
Giles chuckled. "God, we're mad. The pair of us."  
  
Buffy crossed her arms over her chest. "Why's that?"  
  
Despite his smile, he looked sad. "Us together? It's insane."  
  
"I happen to think it's the most sane thing in my life."  
  
He arched an eyebrow. "The sanest thing in a life of vampires and werewolves and ghosts."  
  
"Okay, so comparatively it doesn't have a lot of competition but it's only as impossible as we make it."  
  
"Perhaps that was the case before but… not now. You've got to get home to Sunnydale before Travers knows you came here."  
  
"That doesn't sound like you, Giles. Just to give up like that?"  
  
"I don't have a choice. He could kill you."  
  
She laughed. "Um, so could every vampire I meet any night of my life." She moved next to him and took his hand in hers. "Together, we can beat anything. We have to fight back. It's what we do."  
  
"It's what we did."  
  
"It's who we are. We fight together and we win. Together. And now that I know we have a chance for something, I'm not about to let you go."  
  
******  
Willow blinked her eyes open. She could see the ceiling of Giles' apartment and felt a wonderfully cold cloth on her forehead. Soon Wesley's worried face loomed into view.  
  
"Feeling Better?"  
  
She blinked twice, then laughed and tried to sit up. Wes removed the cold compress and helped her. "I'm great. I just cut my expected lifespan short by about 60 or 70 years but other than that everything's going swimmingly."  
  
He sat beside her on the sofa and covered her hands with his own. "Being a Slayer suddenly not such an attractive idea?"  
  
"You could say that." She met his eyes and attempted a half-hearted smile. "You don't have to stay Wes. I-I mean, after Buffy gets back. You have a life in LA, friends, a place there. I don't expect you to give up all of that because of my mistake."  
  
He moved closer and put his arm around her shoulders. "Willow, if you want me to go I shall, and it's true that you made a rash decision and that's entirely what got you into this…"  
  
"Yup. Rash Willow really dug her own grave with this one."  
  
"But you asked me to be your Watcher and I said yes. And just as you undertook something awesome when you borrowed Faith's power, so did I when I agreed to guide and train you. The fact that you yourself asked for me is far more binding than any Council assignment could ever be. If you're stuck, Willow, then so am I. You've honored me greatly with your trust. I promise, you won't have to go through this alone." Her eyes filled with tears of gratitude. He smiled gently and hugged her to his chest. "Whatever comes, we'll meet it together. And the Watcher's Council, and anyone else foolish enough to go up against us, be damned."  
  
******  
  
"Oh Buffy," Giles sighed and put his arm around her. She leaned her head against his chest, placing her palm flat over his heart. "There's just no time for this. We have to get you home and safe before Travers knows you're…"  
  
She pushed away from him, anger flashing in her eyes. "Screw Travers! I don't care! Let him come after me! I'd like to see him try…"  
  
Giles sat forward suddenly, taking her face in his hands. She met his eyes and he looked panicked. "He doesn't have to try! He CAN do it. He can do it and from a distance and you wouldn't have even had a chance. He doesn't care about a fair and honorable fight. He will simply remove the problem."  
  
"Giles…"  
  
"Don't you think I'd love nothing more than to just be happy with this incredible miracle? Knowing that you feel for me as I do for you? That I want nothing more than to sweep you into my arms and up the stairs and make love to you all night. To whisk you onto a plane and have us go home together? Truly together?" His thumb gently began to stroke her cheek. "But we can't. We can't have this. We can't win this fight. And I can't lose you." He pressed his lips to her forehead. "Not like that. You will find someone else. I'm sure of it." He smiled sadly. "There will never be a shortage of people who could find their heart stolen by the sight of your smile."  
  
"I don't want someone else. I want you! God Giles, fight for me. Fight for us."  
  
He blinked back tears. "I'm sorry. You'll rest here tonight. Then tomorrow, you'll have to go."  
  
"The only place she's going is to the dinning room to eat her supper," Juliana said as she wheeled herself around the corner.  
  
Giles stood with an irritated expression. "Gran…"  
  
"Don't even start Rupert." Buffy's eyes widened. The few times she had seen her Watcher in extremely pissed off mode, it'd made her take a few steps back. His grandmother's version made her feel like backing into the next town. "The last time I checked, it was I who had the authority to say who was welcome to stay in my house and for how long. Now, it's true this house will be yours when I go, but right now I'm here and as long as I am here Buffy is perfectly welcome to stay, indefinitely, despite what you say."  
  
"Gran!"  
  
"Sit down this instant Rupert and not another word or so help me…" Buffy looked to Giles. He was steaming but he sat down, quietly. Juliana's expression softened slightly. "Buffy love, go down the hall to the dinning room, won't you? There's a lovely warm meal waiting."  
  
Buffy nodded, then quickly slipped out of the room.  
  
As soon as she left, Giles stood again. "Gran…"  
  
"I said to sit down, boy." He did. She took a deep breath. "I have never been so irritated with you in all my life. And that includes the hell you put Oliver and Sarah through when you ran off to London all those years ago." He scoffed. Her eyes narrowed. "Yes Rupert. The hell you put your father through. He cried for you, did you know that?"  
  
Giles looked like he'd just been slapped. "I've never heard that before."  
  
"Course not. Because you and your father are almost exactly the same kind of idiot. He swore me to secrecy. I was to tell no one. Just as I wasn't to tell him that you were here now."  
  
Giles looked away. "He came to me and cried. He wanted to know if he was really such a horrible tyrant. He wanted to know why his own son didn't feel he loved him enough to be worried for his safety. That's why you never called them, isn't it? Because you didn't think he cared anyway?"  
  
"I-I called you."   
  
"Yes, you called me. And you told me to let your mum know you were all right. That you just had to figure some things out for yourself. But you never mentioned Oliver. Not once."  
  
"I didn't… realize."  
  
"And this Travers… you've let him defeat you without even raising a finger. Buffy knows the risk now. She came halfway across the world anyway just to be with you and she's willing to fight for your chance at happiness together. And if you aren't willing to do at least that much then..." She took another deep breath and looked at him sadly. "Then you don't deserve her. And you're not the man I knew you to be."  
  
"Gran," he said, tears coming to his eyes.  
  
"You have a choice Rupert. Fight, and risk losing your love. Or do nothing and lose it for certain. I know that you're frightened for Buffy. But you've been frightened before, and you've never let it make a coward of you." She rolled her chair to the entryway. "And for pity's sake grow up and call your bloody father! Let him help you. Just this once, ask for help when you need it." She continued down the hall.  
  
Giles put his hands over his face and cried quietly.  
  
******  
  
Oliver Giles sat in his den, reading over some papers. The sound of footsteps alerted him to the fact that his guest had arrived.   
  
"Mr. Travers, Your Lordship."  
  
"Thank you Charles, that will be all. Please close the doors," he said, not looking up.  
  
"Yes Sir." The Butler retreated leaving a bemused Quentin Travers smiling at Oliver.  
  
Finally turning the chair to face Travers, Oliver gestured with his reading glasses in his hand. "Please sit down, Quentin."  
  
"Thank you, Oliver," he said jovially. "I must say, I was more than a little worried. Being summoned here is rare enough, let alone when I've already been by to see you once today. Half expected to come back and find the place under siege by vampires or some such."  
  
Oliver placed the tip of his glasses in his mouth. "That really would have been odd. What with the conspicuous daylight."  
  
Travers smiled humorlessly and leaned back against the chair with his arms crossed over his chest. "You're in an uncharacteristically sour mood. What's happened?"  
  
"I was just going over the injunction signed by my grandfather. The one banning the Cruciamentum."  
  
"Oh, yes?" He casually picked a piece of lint from his pants.  
  
"Yes. You can imagine my shock then when I read over another paper I managed to get hold of. The paper where I, apparently, retracted my grandfather's injunction. Where I state that the idea of the Slayer being a person first was quaint but emotional. That a Slayer is a weapon. Trained to fight and follow orders until she dies and another is called. That the role of Watcher must not include protector as has long been the tradition… some garbage about merely recording events to better aid the training of the next Chosen One."  
  
Travers raised an eyebrow. "Is there something you wish to ask?"  
  
"No. It's all very obvious to me. Starting immediately, you're expelled from the Council."  
  
"Without even an investigation? You've no right!"  
  
"What right did you have to remove my son from his post?"  
  
"I had every right! He loves that girl. His Slayer. It impairs his…"  
  
"Just because he wouldn't stand by and allow you to murder her? That's not impairment, that's sanity."  
  
"I tell you he's in love with her!"  
  
"Why does that bother you so? It's happened many times. Yes there would have had to have been inquiries to ensure the Slayer was not being forced or coerced, but these are common procedures; long established and oft carried out. No, I feel there was much more to this than concern for the honor of a girl you blatantly tried to have walk blindly into her own gruesome death."  
  
"Such as?"  
  
"Such as another blemish on Rupert's record, one that seemingly went unpunished. Something you could use in your attempt to usurp the position of Head Chancellor?"  
  
"What rubbish!" He stood up. "I cannot believe that you're go…"  
  
Oliver rose to his full height as well and closed on the shorter man. "I wish that I had the time to list the things about you I can't believe. I trusted you. Implicitly. Your severance will be sent to you. Consider all of your Council privileges revoked and your permission to trespass on any Council property rescinded pending the final result of the investigation. That includes your permission to visit this house. Now get out."   
  
Again, Travers smiled. "You need me too much Oliver. You like the position you've got but you don't like to get in there and get your hands dirty. You don't like to be involved. Your son could tell you that, if he were speaking to you."  
  
"You're an ass. The only reason I gave you so much free reign is so that you would have a full grasp of the job. I was going to name you my successor at the next Retreat. One more month and I'd have delivered the Council into thorough corruption. The fates truly are kind."  
  
"I'm to believe you'd have chosen me over your son?"  
  
"My son is too young. But it seems you've given me good reason to hang onto what I've got until he is old enough to offer the Chancellorship to."  
  
Travers narrowed his eyes. "One last thing before I go Oliver. I'm just curious. If you haven't spoken to your son, who was it that brought to your attention something that happened so long ago?"  
  
Oliver looked away and went back to his desk. "You are mistaken. My son phoned me."  
  
"A simple phone call and you believed him?"  
  
Mr. Giles faced him again. "He is my son. And it wasn't difficult to dig up the paperwork to back up his claims."  
  
"Ah, I see. Well, good-day then Oliver. I'm sorry things had to come to this."  
  
Quentin opened the doors and began to walk through.  
  
"Oh and Quentin?" He turned at the sound of Oliver's voice. "If you go anywhere near my son, I'll have you eliminated." Quentin nodded and strode from the room.  
  
  
******  
  
Willow entered Giles' apartment to find Wesley on the phone. "That should be fine. Yes. Yes. Thank you. Bye." She moved to the recliner and sat on one of the arms. Wesley moved from the desk to sit in the chair. "Faith's funeral has been arranged."  
  
"You're going to have her buried under the last name of Giles?"  
  
"No. I found the copies of her birth certificate that were provided to Giles by the Council when he was given interim Watchership over Faith. I've explained to the funeral home that there was a mix-up with the name on the hospital records. They'll take care of the paperwork."  
  
"So what was Faith's real name? Out of curiosity."  
  
"Faith Angelina Goode."  
  
Willow grinned. "You're kidding."  
  
"Afraid it's all here in print."  
  
"Maybe you should bury her with the name Giles. She'd probably have preferred it. By the way, I meant to ask you. Why did Giles have her admitted under his name?" She leaned back against the chair, staring at his hair as he spoke.  
  
"Oh that. Long held Council policy. A Watcher needs access to his Slayer. And as far as hospitals or asylums are concerned, the only way to achieve that inconspicuously is to establish a relation with the girl in the eyes of the bureaucrats."  
  
"Asylums?"  
  
"Not surprisingly, the horrors a Slayer must face have proved simply too much for more than a few of them."  
  
"Oh, yeah. I can understand that. Sorry. Go on?"  
  
"Well as I was saying, depending on the Slayer's personal situation, you fit yourself in wherever you can. Brother, Sister, Husband, Father, Mother, Uncle, Aunt. Whatever seems most logical. Whatever you can get away with."  
  
"You know your hair really does look a lot nicer now than the way you used to wear it when you were a Watcher." She noticed his bemused expression and blushed a little. "Um why did Giles say he was her uncle and not her big brother or her dad?"   
  
"I would assume because Giles has such an extensive record with the hospital himself, they'd know that he didn't have a daughter. Not to mention the whole 'wanted murderer' thing. Much easier to live with if she is the child of some fictional older brother."  
  
"And that makes you the baby of the family as far as the hospital and funeral home are concerned?"   
  
"Indeed."  
  
"If um… if something happened to me?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
"Who would you say you were?"  
  
"Well let's see… You've lived in Sunnydale all your life. That means there's a good chance that someone in the hospital would know you a bit. Know your name, family, that you have no siblings. It looks like I'd have to be your husband." She smiled and he quickly pulled her from the arm of the chair to sit across his lap. "After all, you never know what kind of riff-raff a girl's going to wind up with for a husband." He smiled wickedly.  
  
Acting on the moment, Willow leaned forward suddenly and kissed him on the lips, winding her arms around his neck. He didn't resist but he didn't seem to be kissing back either. Willow released him, looking to his face. He blinked his eyes open, looking at her with total surprise. Now certain she had read more into things than what was intended, the embarrassment was too much for her. She leapt from his lap and backed away a few steps.   
  
"I-I'm sorry." She turned and ran for the door. "God, I'm sorry!"  
  
"Willow!" Wesley jumped up and ran to catch her. "Willow wait!" It was too late, she was running out of the apartment complex before he even reached the open door. He slammed his fist against the doorframe. "Damn."  
  
******  
  
  
Buffy slowly turned the corner into the drawing room. Giles stood across the room facing out the window. She could tell by his posture that all was not well.  
  
"I thought I heard your Grandmother chewing your butt off, but it's still there so things can't be that bad, can they?" He turned to her, his face wet with tears. All other thoughts flew out of her mind as she swiftly closed the distance between them. "Talk to me Giles? Please?"  
  
He threw his arms around her, embracing her so tightly it would have hurt anyone who wasn't the Slayer.  
  
"I just want you safe Buffy."  
  
She smiled sadly. "I'm the Slayer, Giles. I'll never be safe."  
  
"All right, relatively safe then."  
  
She pulled back to look into his eyes. "And for that, I need you. I need you with me. I need to know that the person I'm back to back in a fight with isn't going to turn around and put a knife in mine. You're the only person I count on as much as I count on myself, Giles. Because I know from experience that no matter how much I've hurt you, or how incredibly pissed off you are at me, you will be there to back me up with just as much passion as you would if everything was great between us. You, Rupert Giles, are all the security I get." She touched his cheek with her fingertips. "And you're all I need."  
  
He smiled and took her face in his hands. "What did I do to deserve you?"  
  
"To deserve me? I don't know, run over a family of five in a past life? I'm not exactly a prize, Giles."  
  
He stroked her hair. "No, you're not. You're so much more than that."  
  
She smiled, leaning into his touch. "So does this mean we're in this together."  
  
Giles nodded. "We are. As always. For better or worse. But I'm warning you. If you die on me, I'm going to kill you."  
  
Buffy's hand came up and curled around the back of his own. "What do we do first?"  
  
He arched his eyebrow. "This." Leaning forward, he took her mouth in a tender kiss. She closed her eyes and slid her arms around his neck.  
  
******  
  
"Well?" Sarah Giles said, standing in the doorway of her husband's den.  
  
Oliver turned his desk chair to face her. "Well what? I fired him. He is expulsed from the Council."  
  
"Good. About time too. I meant what about your son."  
  
"He daren't touch Rupert now. What do you mean about time too? Quentin was always a good worker."  
  
"The only thing he ever worked for was his own best interests. And he was never a good man. I've never liked him and you know it."  
  
"So you've told me after every visit he's ever made here. You were right and I was wrong. Are you happy now?"  
  
"Ecstatic," she said flatly, crossing her arms over her chest. "Now, what about your son?"  
  
"I told you, Travers won't touch him."  
  
"I'm not talking about bloody Travers! I'm talking about you picking up the phone and ringing your mother's and putting an end to all this nonsense."  
  
Oliver crossed his arms over his chest. "And why would I want to do that?"  
  
Sarah threw up her hands. "Honestly! Sometimes it's as though I had two children." She strode determinedly to the phone and turned to him. "It's all really quite simple Oliver. You pick up that contraption by your hand and press the numbers that will  
connect you to your mother's home. Then talk to your son."  
  
He turned his back to her and pretended to read some of the papers on his desk. "Why should I? He hasn't bothered to call me. He's the one behaving like a child."  
  
"He is a child! He's our child."  
  
"Who is a grown man now. He's over forty years old. Why is it all right that he act the way he does?"  
  
"Perhaps because his father is nearly 70 and can't be bothered to set an example! Honestly! The pair of you! I sometimes wonder what crimes I must have committed in my last life to have been saddled with being the eternal referee between you both." She went to his chair and forcefully spun him to face the phone.  
  
"Sarah, I'm trying to work."  
  
"Call. Your. Son. And don't bother speaking to me until you do." She stormed out of the room.  
  
Oliver took a few deep breaths, then walked to the door and closed it. He paced for several minutes before making his way over to the phone and placing his hand on it. He then took his hand away from it and began to pace near it.  
  
******  
  
  
"Reginald Merriweather please." Quentin Travers held the car phone against his ear, as he looked out the window trying to judge how close they were to his home. "Merriweather? It's Travers. I thought you said no calls had been placed to either Sunnydale or the Head Chancellor's estate from Darkbrook." Travers looked to the front of the limousine to make sure the driver wasn't listening in. "Well something got through to him. No never you mind that. I want the operative nearest to Sunnydale to go there at once and take a look around, make sure the Slayer is where she is supposed to be. I want you to have Ashe from Special Operations come to my home. No. Nothing through official channels. Everything needs to be kept as quiet as possible for now."  
  
******  
  
Buffy smiled as she pulled away from the kiss. "Wow. I have to say that I think that was the best first thing ever."  
  
Giles gently ran his hands through her hair. "I shouldn't have done that," he said, sighing.  
  
Her smile faded. "Why's that?"  
  
His eyes were sparkling. "Because now that I've started, I don't ever want to stop."  
  
The smile that greeted him was nearly blinding. "Who says you have to?"  
  
"We both do for now. There's this whole Travers mess to contend with."  
  
"Right." She took a deep breath. "Duty first. Smoochies later."  
  
"I'm seriously beginning to hate the word duty," Giles said.   
  
She pouted as she curled her fingers around the material of his sweater. "It's getting pretty late Giles. Don't you think just this once there might be smoochies before duty? After all, what else can we do about Travers today?"  
  
The phone rang. Giles touched his finger to the end of her nose. "Hold that pout. Won't be a moment." He walked across the room and picked up the receiver. "Darkbrook Hall, Rupert Giles speaking." He turned to look at Buffy with a strange expression on his face. Just as she had started to worry, he spoke again. "Yes. Yes it's good to hear your voice too, Dad."  
  
  
End 


End file.
